


Weak Point

by graceandfire



Series: Brightness Burns [13]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 19:22:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graceandfire/pseuds/graceandfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having James T. Kirk as your mentor is not an easy thing.</p><p>*******<br/>“I’m going to do something that you’re not going to like.”</p><p>Muscles tense up and anxiety pitches a fit in Leonard’s stomach because Kirk doesn’t <i>give</i> warnings.  Not unless he’s playing mind games.  But Kirk isn’t wearing his ‘I’m *#%@# with you’ smirk.  He’s wearing his ‘I will do what needs to be done’ look.  </p><p>People tend to bleed when Kirk’s wearing that look.</p><p>So what is Kirk planning that’s so bad he considers a warning necessary?</p><p>Whatever it is, Leonard knows he can’t stop it, just…“Whatever you’re going to do, it’ll wait until we get back to the Enterprise.”  His voice is firm, the plea showing only in his eyes.  They’ve been on earth for five days on leave.  They drop Joanna back at school tomorrow before heading back to their ship.  Surely Kirk will wait.</p><p>It’s taken Leonard a long, wary two years to really believe that Kirk isn’t going to hurt Joanna, or use her against him.  To accept that somehow in the months he’d been gone, a strange connection had been forged between the ruthless killer and his little girl...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weak Point

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE NOTE - Psychological torture of a minor. Actual torture of an adult.
> 
> Set when Joanna McCoy is fourteen years old.

"I’m going to do something that you’re not going to like.”  
  
Muscles tense up and anxiety pitches a fit in Leonard’s stomach because Kirk doesn’t _give_ warnings.  Not unless he’s playing mind games.  But Kirk isn’t wearing his ‘I’m fucking with you’ smirk.  He’s wearing his ‘I will do what needs to be done’ look.  People tend to bleed when Kirk’s wearing that look.  
  
So what in hell is Kirk planning that’s so bad he considers a warning necessary?  
  
Whatever it is, Leonard knows he can’t stop it, just…“Whatever you’re going to do, it’ll wait until we get back to the Enterprise.”  His voice is firm, the plea showing only in his eyes.  They’ve been on earth for five days on leave.  They drop Joanna back at school tomorrow before heading back to their ship.  Surely Kirk will wait.  
  
It’s taken Leonard a long, wary two years to really _believe_ that Kirk isn’t going to hurt Joanna, or use her against him.  To accept that somehow in the months he’d been gone, a strange connection had been forged between the ruthless killer and his little girl—fourteen now and so amazing that sometimes Leonard thinks his heart will burst with awe over her existence.  He’s gone from horrified to wary to warily bemused as he’s watched the connection between the two only grow stronger.  
  
Thinking of Kirk’s interest in Jo always calls up a snarled tangle of warring emotions; anger and resentment and gratitude and a host of others because how _can_ he know what to feel about the fact that Jo is Kirk’s now as much as she’s his.  What emotion is supposed to win when he sees the growing hardness in his daughter’s eyes as Jo’s molded by the 'fleet prep school and by Jim’s ruthless mentoring.  It shrivels up pieces of his soul but he also knows—he’s always known, even before Kirk’s relentlessly laid out logic—that this is the best way, the only way, to keep Jo safe.  She’s learning from Kirk how to protect herself from the predators that populate the ‘fleet.    
  
She’s learning how not to be her father.  
  
Leonard looks at Kirk now and repeats his request in the face of Kirk’s continued silence.  “Whatever I did, just…wait until we’re back on the ship,” he says, even as he tries to think of what he could have done wrong.  This leave they’ve spent in San Francisco has been the most relaxing in years, with Kirk sticking to his version of best behavior.    
  
So it genuinely surprises him when Kirk shakes his head, eyes serious.    
  
“No.  I need to teach Joanna something.  I need you both here.”  
  
Fuck.  “You…what are you going to do?” he asks warily.  
  
Instead of answering, Kirk points at one of the chairs in the dining alcove of the high priced apartment he keeps in San Francisco.  “Sit down.”    
  
“No.”  Leonard’s denial is instinctive.  “No, not until you tell me what in the _hell_ you’re planning to do.”  He stands stiff, a snarl of defiance ready to emerge as he waits for Kirk to force him.  He knows he’ll lose.  He knows it’s going to hurt.  He’ll fight him anyway, because this is about _Joanna_.  
  
But Kirk just looks at him as if he can read Leonard’s mind and says, “I promise I’m not going to hurt Jo.”  He nods towards the dining room.  “Now sit in the chair, McCoy.”  
  
Leonard holds Kirk’s promise tight because Kirk doesn’t lie to him so Kirk’s not going to hurt Joanna.  It’s still a mystery to Leonard exactly _what_ Kirk really feels about Jo, but the man’s invested time and energy and money into her.  He’s _not_ going to hurt her.    
  
And that’s the only thing that really matters.  
  
He sits in the chair.  
  
He’s not at all surprised when Kirk restrains him.  He doesn’t fight it when his hands are expertly tied to the back of the chair.  He does pull away instinctively when Kirk ties his legs, a far too late and useless rebellion.  When he’s bound and trussed like a goddamn turkey prepped for roasting he looks up and meets Kirk’s impassive gaze.  The other man stares at him, blue eyes giving nothing away as he raises a hand and cards it through Leonard’s hair, almost petting him.  
  
“Goddammit, Kirk, just _tell me_ what the fuck you’re going to do.”  He’s getting more and more freaked out by the fact that Kirk is being almost…gentle with him.  _He’s not going to hurt Joanna, he promised.  He’s not going to hurt Joanna, he promised.  He’s not going to hurt…_ He sees the gag and tries to jerk his head away, protesting, “No, wait!” but the gag goes firmly in.  It’s this last action that has panic spearing through him, cutting him open.  _Oh, fuckfuckfuck,_ what if Kirk’s been playing with him.  What if he’s been playing some long fucking game of revenge for Leonard leaving, he’s been building up Leonard’s trust, he’s going to, Joanna’s going to, Joanna’s going to be alone with Kirk and he can’t, he can’tcan’t _can’t_ …  
  
“McCoy!”  Firm hands grip his face and ruthlessly turn him so that his panicking eyes meet Kirk’s calm ones.  “I said I’m not going to hurt her.  Are you listening to me?  I’m _not_ going to hurt her.”  There’s a faint thread of annoyance in Kirk’s voice and for some reason it’s this that reassures Leonard and has the panic receding.  
  
 _‘Then what are you going to do?’_ he thinks, the question in his eyes.  But Kirk just pets him again and turns away.     
  
“I’m going to get Jo.  Try not to freak out too much while I’m gone.”  
  
Leonard has no problem disobeying that order as he tugs uselessly at his bonds.  Whatever else Kirk has planned—and dread and panic are still spiking through him—he doesn’t want Jo to see him like this, tied up and helpless.  He doesn’t know how much Jo really understands about his relationship with her ‘Uncle’ Jim.  He’s sure as hell never talked about it and she’s never asked questions, but her brain is razor sharp and the way she looks at them sometimes...hell, her poker face has always been good, and that was _before_ Kirk got a hold of her.  
  
When he hears them coming back, he’s still exactly where Kirk left him, restrained and gagged and helpless to do anything but stare as Joanna and Kirk come into view.  He knows the exact moment Jo sees him, the falter in her stride, the widening of her eyes, the quick, wary glance up at Kirk before her expression smoothes over.  She starts to go to him only to be held back by Kirk’s hand on her thin shoulders.    
  
“Hold on, Jo.”  Kirk’s voice is firm and no nonsense.  
  
Jo looks up at him, and Leonard can see the tension in her coltish body even from across the room.  “Why is my dad tied up?”  She manages to keep her voice even.  
  
Dread hits Leonard at Kirk’s answer.  “Because he’s your weak point.”  
  
He watches as his daughter shoots another quick glance at him—too fast for him to see what’s going on behind those eyes so similar to his own—before looking back up at Kirk silently, warily.  
  
Kirk leans in.  “He’s your weak point because you love him.  He can be used against you.”  
  
“No, I…” Leonard watches as Kirk hushes Joanna’s instinctive protest and steers her to another chair which he drags around to face Leonard a few feet away.  
  
“You can’t help loving him but you can help your reactions.  If people know he’s your weakness they’ll use it against you.  Threaten him or hurt him to hurt you, to make you do something you don’t want to do.”  Kirk’s voice is calm and authoritative and it’s the same voice he used last night when he was giving Jo tips on how to write her fucking research report.  
  
Jo’s hazel eyes, usually so controlled and contained, shimmer with mutiny and fear as she looks up at Kirk.  “You love him.  You love him too.”  
  
Kirk shakes his head.  “Your father _belongs_ to me.  _That’s_ what people know.  _That’s_ what they see.  That he’s under my protection.”  
  
“Then…then why…”  
  
Kirk cuts her off with another shake of his head.  “But they also know he can’t be used against me.  That I’d kill him myself before I’d let that happen.”  He ignores Joanna’s instinctive shake of her head in denial.  “And they know that I’d destroy them for messing with my possession.  They know they’d beg for death for a very long time before I gave it to them.”  He leans forward, a boyishly handsome, charismatic killer with baby blue eyes.  “And because people know this it protects your father.”  
  
Leonard watches as Jo nods, gaze still wary but accepting now too and another piece of his soul shrivels at the look in his daughter’s too old eyes.    
  
She nods.  “I understand.”  
  
Kirk smiles in approval.  “Good.  Now you need to _show_ that he can’t be used against you.”    
  
When Kirk moves behind him, Leonard meets Joanna’s gaze and tries to look calm and reassuring.  He doesn’t flinch away from the warm, solid presence behind him.  It’s the horror in Joanna’s widening eyes that’s his only warning before his body spasms and burns, pain eating away at him in endless, paralyzing waves, drawing strangled, choked cries from behind his gag as his neck snaps back and he writhes as much as the bonds will let him.  The fire sears up and down his body, consuming him down to his bones and replacing his awareness of the world with pain that can’t be escaped.  He’s barely even aware of Jo screaming until the pain stops as suddenly as it had started; the absence the best thing he’s ever felt in his long and fucked up life.  As he claws his way back to rational thought he instinctively tracks for Jo, fuck where is she where…  
  
He blinks blearily and sees Kirk dragging Jo back to the chair she’d leapt from and he cries out a muffled protest even as he sees Kirk’s not hurting her, not even when Jo tries to disable him with a vicious attack which Kirk easily blocks.  He watches helplessly as Kirk cuffs Jo to the chair, the other man waiting patiently for Jo to calm down.    
  
“That’s exactly the reaction you _can’t_ show, Jo.”  Kirk is looking down at her, voice instructional.    
  
And then he walks back towards Leonard, Agonizer still in hand.  
  
Leonard sucks in air around the gag, chest heaving, craning his neck to watch with wild eyes as Kirk circles to stand behind him.  He pulls against his bonds as he waits for his world to turn to fire again.    
  
He can’t help the flinch at Kirk’s next words.  
  
“We’ve got all day, Jo.”  
  
  
  
Leonard doesn’t know how long the ‘lesson’ has been going on.  The sunlight streaming in through the large treated bay windows is still bright.  It _feels_ like this has been happening for a hundred years but, fuck, it could be less than an hour.  He’s barely aware of reality at this point, head drooping in exhaustion and he cringes when he feels something brush against him, expecting the pain to start up again and consume his world.  It takes him a moment to register that he’s not in agony, that pain is still absent, and that there’s a hand rubbing comfortingly against his shoulder and neck and there are words, “We’re done, McCoy.  We’re done.”  
  
He finds the strength to lift his head and sees Joanna watching him, sitting in her chair, back straight and eyes dry and what flits through his mind is that she doesn’t look like him right now, not anymore.  With her impassive face and cold, cold eyes, she looks like Kirk.  
  
He watches, sweat soaked and shivering, as Kirk walks over and undoes the cuff that’s been holding Jo in place.  When he sees Kirk lift the portable Agonizer, Leonard tries to scream, jerking against his bonds.  And then he realizes Kirk’s giving it to her, wrapping her slender fingers around it and he cries out a muffled protest at that too.    
  
Kirk stares down at her.  “Do it.”  
  
And Leonard watches as that blank, disturbing impassivity on his daughter’s face crumbles under the weight of pure, vindictive rage, as she puts the device against Kirk and activates it without hesitation.  Kirk’s body jerks under the onslaught and, after a few endless seconds, the terrible rage drains from Jo’s face and she starts to pull away only to have Kirk grip her wrist and forcibly keep it on him.    
  
Fuck, how is Kirk even capable of motor function with the debilitating fire of the Agonizer racing through every nerve?  Leonard hadn’t been able to do anything but be overwhelmed, enduring the pain only because he had no choice, the restraints the only thing keeping him upright.   But the only reaction Kirk is showing is a slight tremor and Leonard wonders, not for the first time, how does someone become that used to—that _immune_ to—that much pain?  
  
When Kirk finally lets go of Jo’s wrist and pulls back, it’s Jo who’s trembling as she looks up at him, eyes enormous in her pale, pale face.  
  
Kirk leans in until he’s inches from her.  “It’s only pain, Jo,” he says softly.  “When you realize that, when you can control it while others can’t, it becomes just another tool.”    
  
Leonard watches his daughter, his Jo, look down at the Agonizer like she’s never seen one before.  When Kirk turns her gently by the shoulders and tells her to go wait in her room she goes.    
  
She doesn’t look back.  And she takes the Agonizer with her.  
  
Once Jo leaves, Kirk comes back to him and undoes the restraints, looking down at him, head cocked to the side while Leonard tries to figure out if his trembling body can stand.  
  
“You want to take a shot at me?  I’ll give you one for free.”  
  
The offer’s just so… _inadequate_ and so _Kirk_ that a bitter laugh escapes him.  Kirk shrugs and drags him up, supporting Leonard as he wobbles and starts to fall.  He tries to jerk away because he’d rather fall flat on his goddamn face right now than accept Kirk’s help, but the bastard ignores his weak attempts to resist and steers him to the living room, dumping him on the couch and then collapsing next to him in a sprawl.  
  
“You can go talk to Jo in a few, but rest up first.”  
  
“Why didn’t you warn me?”  It’s the first thing he’s said since Kirk removed the gag and his voice comes out rusty and hoarse from screaming.  
  
Kirk shrugs.  “What good would that have done?  _Hey, McCoy, I’m planning to torture you next week in front of Jo to teach her a valuable life lesson_.  You wouldn’t have been able to talk me out of it.  You would have just freaked out and probably tried to do something stupid.”  
  
There’s…really nothing he can say to that, in the face of Kirk’s perfectly fucking logical statements that make perfect fucking logical sense if you take away compassion or any softer human emotion and what the fuck good do those emotions do anybody anyway.  So Leonard just heaves his protesting body up, rage and resentment and remembered pain churning in his stomach.  He stands unsteadily for a moment until he’s mostly sure he’s not going to fall over and then he starts walking with slow, stiff steps to find Jo.  
  
He looks back once when he reaches the hallway and Kirk’s still sitting there, studying him, giving nothing away.    
  
"Sometimes I hate you,” he rasps out.  He doesn’t have the energy to scowl.  
  
"No, you don’t.”  It's an order.  Leonard turns away and keeps walking.  
  
  
  
When Kirk fucks him that night, it’s not easy and it’s not gentle.  It’s terse orders and ruthless hands that hold him down while Kirk slams into him.  Kirk fucks Leonard like he’s giving him a reminder of who he belongs to, leaving bite marks in tender places, branding him.  Kirk pulls the orgasm out of him, _demands_ it, with hands and tongue and teeth that know him inside and out and refuse to be denied, winning in the end because the bastard _always_ wins in the end.  
  
It’s two days later in Kirk’s quarters that the fury--pushed down and forcibly ignored for days--boils up all at once, searing through Leonard as fast and unexpected as the pain from the Agonizer had and he lashes out, slamming his fist into Kirk’s face so quickly it actually catches Kirk off guard, his nose crunching satisfyingly under Leonard’s fist.  Kirk staggers back and then just stands there, blood streaming from a broken nose as he glances down at Leonard’s hands which are still tightened into fists, clenched and shaking.  He smiles as he meets Leonard’s gaze, looking fierce and dangerous and amused at the same time.   
  
“I said I’d give you one for free.  Next one’s gonna cost you.”  
  
Leonard swings anyway.  He loses the fight, badly, but he gets in—Kirk _lets_ him get in—a few good blows.      
  
Sometimes it’s worth the cost.


End file.
